


Back Again

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 13:45:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7270681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of teamfreewillimagines': Imagine being in a coma and the first thing you see after waking up is Dean crying over you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back Again

Choked back sobs echo in the silent hospital room.  Everything feels stiff like unoiled hinges. Even with the pillow supporting your head it still feels heavy. Fighting through the heaviness of your lids you look around the hospital room, battling the brightness that is streaming in from the window. The last time you remember opening your eyes the walls were barren, then some flowers, and now there are cards scattered around the tables. Dean is sitting with his head hung and is fiddling with your watch. It hasn’t worked for years but as it is the last thing you had after losing your house. It is irreplaceable.

Dean gently rubs at the scratches that mar the watch’s face. He tries to hold in his crying, angrily wiping at the tears as if they were the culprit for your coma. Dean leans forward and places the watch in your hand. He hadn’t noticed yet that you were awake but the moment you tapped his fingers Dean could barely hold in his shock. Dean stares at you not sure if he is imagining things because it has been thirty-four hours since he last slept or if you really are back.

“Hey. You look like shit.” You stifle a cough as you hoarsely laugh at the bewildered look on Dean’s bearded face. You doubt that he has shaved in months.

Gathering all the strength you can you reach towards Dean’s face and gently wipe away the trail of tears that are falling. Dean leans into your touch, his eyes closing so that he can revel in your touch. He lets out a massive sigh and his shoulders droop as if the strings that were holding him tightly in place were finally cut.

“You’re one to talk.”

An excited nurse comes through the hospital door with a bright smile plastered on his face. He quickly scans your vitals before running through a number of questions. The first being if you know what the day it is. The nurse’s response surprises you but it certainly explains a few things. While it only felt like minutes had passed, apparently, it has almost been a year since your car accident. A driver had t-boned your car when you were on the way back from a general checkup. You’d been excited to share some good news with Dean but the excitement was cut short when a speeding minivan caused your car to spin and then flip into a ditch on the perimeter road.

With downturned eyes and the bright smile gone from his face the nurse whispers, “I’m so sorry. There was nothing we could do.”, before leaving you and Dean alone before the doctor comes to check on you herself.

Idly you fiddle with fabric that covers your belly. Dean places one of his hands over yours. Silence fills the room. The doctors had filled Dean not long after he arrived at the hospital the first time ten months ago. For a long time he wondered what your child would have been like, if they’d have your eyes and your infectious laugh. It tore him up inside that there was nothing he could have done and that for these last ten months Dean has wondered whether or not he’d lose you too. Everyday day felt like one more nail was being driven into your coffin.

After five minutes of mind-numbing silence Dr. Espinoza knocks on the door and greets you for the first time. Fortunately, after several tests, Dr. Espinoza comes to the conclusion careful monitoring at home and recommended some therapy to help the both of you readjust to your new lives. She couldn’t one hundred percent predict how the coma would continue to affect you later on but she is hopeful that the side-effects would be minimal considering how lucid you are.

A few days later after some testing and observation Dr. Espinoza gave the okay to release you. As you leave the hospital and get in the Impala nothing seems to have changed. The car stills smells just like Sam and Dean; a mixture of leather and fast food. Dean keeps one of your hands entangled in his the whole drive to the bunker. On the way you see out of the corner of your eye a little house. It’s driveway is filled with cars and colorful leaves decorate the front lawn. Three tricycles are strayed along the lawn where the “For Sale” sign used to be.

_“What do you think?” You wait anxiously for Dean’s answer and your face begins to fall the longer he doesn’t respond. Finally, he answers._

_“Well, it’s pretty big.” Dean gazes off through the hallway that leads to the four bedrooms. His tone gave the impression that he wasn’t interested. As you go to leave Dean hugs you from behind and says, “I guess we’ll have to fill the house.” He idly strokes your growing baby bump._

Dean notices the way your shoulders slump and your eyes remain unfocused. He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. It is the first moment that it really hits you that you’ve been gone for nine months. You look down at your belly and can’t help but sigh.

Months have passed. Physically you’re coming along and able to more easily get around without feeling weak. But you still can’t drive. Even the thought makes your stomach churn and your heart to race. It’s gotten to the point that even being a passenger is nerve wracking. With all the things Dean and Sam have been dealing with now that the Darkness and Lucifer are roaming around it never seemed like there was a good time to tell them about your problems. You didn’t want to burden them anymore.

One night with the whole bunker to yourself, in the middle of a shower, you can no longer keep it in. Sobs rack through your body, shaking you until you can’t keep standing. With your back against the tile wall you curl into yourself. Before long it you feel a pair of arms wrap around your body into his chest.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Dean rocks you in his arms feeling powerless.

It takes a good forty minutes before you calm down enough that Dean can properly dry you off. Cradled in his arms Dean carries you off to your shared room. Wrapped in his comforter with Dean’s shirt on as a pajama he lays down beside you. With his forehead against yours and your legs tangled together Dean strokes your hair.

“Don’t worry, we can make it through this, Y/N. I’m here for you.”

The night crawls by for Dean and you sleep comforted by his warmth and steady heartbeat. As Dean recalls seeing you crying, completely raw, he feels unbelievably guilty. Work is his medicine but he completely forgot that you no longer have what kept you going steady. Dean doesn’t want to imagine how alone you must feel in the huge bunker with nothing but your thoughts to talk to. Then and there Dean promised to do better. Whatever it took. He isn’t going to lose you. Not when he just got you back.


End file.
